


Percy Weasley: Through the Looking Glass

by SpoonyLupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, POV Minor Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-03 14:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoonyLupin/pseuds/SpoonyLupin
Summary: As news of the return of Lord Voldemort spreads throughout the wizarding world, Percy Weasley reflects back on his ongoing struggle with his family, and the one that started it all - the Dark Lord himself.





	Percy Weasley: Through the Looking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's note: This was written as one chapter of a multi-author, novel-length collaboration on Voldemort. A group of authors were selected, and we were all asked to pick one character (or more if we wished), and write a one chapter story about their thoughts/memories/experiences on Voldemort. I joined the project rather late, and by that time, all of the main characters were already chosen. I thought about it, and for some reason, I've always been fascinated by Percy, although I've never written anything about him. I thought it would be a challenge to write about him, so that's why I picked him. This is far from the way this story started. I learned quite a bit about Percy while working on this, and I hope this ultimately makes you think about him in a different light. Enjoy!

Rain spattered against the window of my flat, running down the glass in rivulets. It reminded me faintly of something, but I pushed that thought away to the very recesses of my mind. The sky beyond was a pale slate grey, the normally warm June sun hidden behind mounds of storm clouds. The weather over London reflected the mood of probably the majority of the wizarding world in that moment.

I sat on the bed in my flat, holding that morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet in my grasp. HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS, the headline read. I must have run my eyes over those words a million times, but they never changed. The announcement didn’t come as a complete surprise - no, I knew it was coming - but that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried or afraid.

By the time the Dark Lord had fallen the first time, I was really much too young to remember anything about it. But I do remember the day I found out about it, as clear as anything.

~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling warm sunshine on my face, I stretched in bed. Little particles of dust were floating about in my tiny bedroom, the sunlight playing upon them. There were voices coming from below, somewhere in the kitchen of the Burrow, breaking the silence of the quiet fall morning.

Pulling on a robe, I made my way out into the hall and headed down the steps. In spite of the unusual warmth of November, the wooden floorboards were harsh and cold beneath my bare feet, and I was suddenly wishing I’d stopped to put on my slippers as well. The voices, however, were enticing me too much to turn back.

“But poor Harry!” I heard my mum say, and I stopped, leaning up against the side of the stairwell. “James and Lily! Harry should come here, we could...”

“Albus is making arrangements for Harry to go and stay with aunt and uncle,” dad said. “Albus said it was necessary.”

“But...” mum muttered, her voice breaking off in a sob. “Sirius...how could he?”

The was a long exhalation coming from my dad that turned into a drawn out sigh, and quiet footsteps passing across the kitchen. “I don’t know. Neither does Albus. And he’s more certain than ever that he himself should have been the Secret-Keeper, but you know James...”

“He wouldn’t hear of anyone but Sirius doing it. I don’t understand it, Arthur. He was in the Order...Albus trusted him!”

“Albus has been fooled before,” dad replied, and there was a clatter of pots being shuffled around. “We were all fooled. I suppose we should look on the bright side, though, Molly. You-Know-Who...is gone...at least.”

“Is he really?” mum asked in disbelief.

Dad answered with something, but his voice was muffled, and I couldn’t hear.

“There have been parties going on all morning,” mum said in disgust, “but I’m not quite sure how anyone could feel like celebrating.”

“They’re celebrating the downfall of You-Know-Who, Molly. And about time, too. At least our children won’t have to grow up with him around.”

The rest of their conversation fell on dead ears. I was still standing in the middle of the steps, leaning up against the wall behind me, grasping the railing with my hands at the crook of my back. You-Know-Who was gone. Even at five years old, I knew that was a good thing. But then why was mum so upset? She’d said something about Harry, and James, and Lily...

My parents had had the Potters over for dinner several times, and I remembered Harry -- the boy with the messy hair. He was just a little younger than my brother, Ron. Something awful must have happened if Harry was going to stay with his aunt and uncle...

A baby’s cries coming from above broke me from my thoughts. My mum said something to my dad, and then I heard her coming toward the steps.

Swallowing hard, I casually continued down the stairs, not wanting them to know I had been listening. I ran straight into my mother, and she smiled at me, but there was something not quite right about it.

“Come on down into the kitchen, Percy,” she said. “Your father and I want to talk to you. I’m going to get Ginny and the rest of your brothers, and I’ll be right there.”

She quickly brushed past me and went into my sister’s room. Continuing down to the kitchen, I sighed. I didn’t need to hear it; I already knew what they were going to say.

~~~~~~~~~~

Still clutching the Daily Prophet in my hand, feeling the paper contorting into the fist I was making, I pushed myself up from my bed. Making my way through the main sitting area of my flat, I emerged into the kitchen, slamming the paper down on the counter.

I had known then before I was told, and I suppose I already knew before I’d been told this time. Harry was my little brother’s best friend, I knew he wouldn’t intentionally lie about You-Know-Who coming back, but...it was easier to believe Fudge when he tried to push that information aside. It was much easier to believe that things wouldn’t be going that way again...but I knew. In the back of my mind, I always knew.

Shaking my head harshly, I tried to force those memories from my mind. I went about making myself a cup of tea, deciding what to have for breakfast. Eyeing the contents of my pantry, I felt my stomach tying itself in great knots, and knew I wouldn’t be able to eat anything anyway. Slamming the door, I grabbed up my now steaming cup of tea, squeezing it between my fingers so tightly, I thought it might break.

~~~~~~~~~~

The weather was unseasonably warm for November, and I sat in the backyard of the Burrow, Fred and George chasing after a screaming Ron. Mum and dad sat at the rickety wooden picnic table, engrossed in something baby Ginny was doing, while Bill and Charlie tossed a Quaffle around on their brooms. I stretched out under a shady tree, one of my favorite books in my lap. My parents occasionally commented on how important it was that we didn’t have to be afraid any longer, because You-Know-Who was gone.

I yelped when I felt something cold pressing up against my hand. Breathing heavily with surprise, I saw a fat grey rat on the grass next to me. The animal was carefully sniffing the remains of the corned beef sandwich I’d had for lunch, which sat on a plate in the grass.

“Percy?” dad asked, concerned. “What is it? Are you...?”

“Look!” I exclaimed, gathering the rat up in my hands and holding it up for my parents to see.

My mum almost screamed, but stifled it with a hand over her mouth.

I grinned. “Can I keep it?”

Her face screwing up in a look of complete disgust, my mum shrieked, “Certainly not! We’ve no idea where it’s been, or where it’s come from...It could be swarming with diseases...”

“You poor thing,” I whispered to it, picking up a piece of crust from the plate. The rat ate it hungrily, and I noticed that one of his feet was not like the others. “He’s missing a toe.”

“Probably lost it to some wild rabid animal,” mum muttered.

“Oh, come now, Molly,” dad said gently, coming over to me to inspect the rodent. “It‘s just a rat.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Putting my teacup to my mouth, I tipped it and let the steaming liquid pass over my bottom lip. The hot tea almost burned my tongue, but I wasn’t really thinking about that.

I wanted to kick myself after I learned that my rat really was...a rat. The thought that I’d taken in and cared for a Death Eater without even suspecting still made my skin crawl. And I hated myself when I thought about the fact that I’d given him to Ron after my parents bought me my owl, Hermes.

It was a miracle that my entire family had survived thus far, unharmed. And I was certainly thankful for Harry when he’d rescued my sister, Ginny, from Tom Riddle when she’d unsuspectingly found his diary in her first year.

Lots of people, I was sure, figured that I didn’t care for my family. After all, there was that big falling out I had with my parents over the fact that I was working for Fudge. My parents were convinced that Fudge was using me in order to keep an eye on the rest of the Weasleys.

They were wrong. It wasn’t Fudge who wanted to use me as a spy.

It had been You-Know-Who.

~~~~~~~~~~

Emerging from the Ministry of Magic, I stepped out into the late June evening, the humidity thick in the air. I’d just been through a several hour interrogation with Ministry officials, who wanted to know why I never suspected that my boss, Bartemius Crouch was under the Imperius Curse.

Pulling off my glasses and running my other hand roughly over my face, I heaved a deep sigh. My shoes tapped softly over the sidewalk, but I hardly heard it. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in myself, in doing my job properly, I would have noticed that there was indeed something wrong with Crouch. But I didn’t. In hindsight, it seemed so obvious, but then again, things always do.

Shaking my head, trying desperately to clear it, I continued down the street. I decided to take a walk before returning to the Burrow; I couldn’t face my family at that point.

Turning the corner into an alleyway, the summer humidity suddenly seemed to melt away. The air was much chillier, and I swallowed, wishing I had my cloak with me. And then there was something, something pressing me against the cold brick wall of a building, holding me there. I immediately went for my wand, but it was quickly pulled from my hand with a mumbled, “Expelliarmus.”

“Who...who’s there?” I stuttered. I couldn’t see anything; there were no streetlamps and the moon was new.

“Weasley,” a voice hissed in my ear, making me feel even colder than I already did. “How are you this fine evening?”

I struggled against whatever it was that was binding me, but I couldn’t move at all.

“You’ve already served me once, and you weren’t even aware of it,” the voice said with a hint of laughter. “Were you? Well, you served my servant, taking him in all those years ago, but Lord Voldemort always rewards those who show him loyalty.”

My eyes grew wide, and I thrashed about, hoping to free myself. It wasn’t...I knew it wasn’t...

“How about it, Weasley? You help me out again, and you will be rewarded beyond your dreams.”

Shutting my eyes, I tried to block it all out. It was all a dream, that’s all. Lord...You-Know-Who was not speaking to me, was not requesting my services...

“I need someone to keep an eye on the rest of your family, that’s all. Meddling fools, that’s what they are, and I know they’re loyal to Dumbledore. But I’ve been watching you very closely. You’re not like the rest of them, are you? You never fit in with them. You could fit in with us, you know. With me.”

My eyes still shut, I swung my head back and forth wildly. I didn’t care how badly my siblings teased me; I would never serve the Dark Lord.

“Are you sure, Weasley? If you don’t want to cooperate, we could always do this the hard way.”

“Go to hell,” I muttered, venom dripping in my voice.

A breath flitted over my cheek, making me shiver. “Have it your way. It was only a suggestion.”

And as quickly as it had come, the coldness was gone, and so was the pressure that’d been holding me against the wall. I searched, but there was no sign that anyone else had been there. Part of me insisted that it was all a dream, but the other part of me - my brain - knew better.

I went to Fudge immediately, telling him about what happened to me out in the alley. He reassured me with a simple, “My dear boy, You-Know-Who is no more alive now than he was fourteen years ago.”

“But sir, he said...”

“Nonsense!” Fudge exclaimed, brushing away my comments with a wave of his hand. “This is exactly how rumors get started in the first place. Did you actually see You-Know-Who?”

“It was dark...”

“There, you see? It could have been anyone. It was most likely someone playing a trick on you, someone who is jealous of your position within the Ministry, someone who just wanted to scare you.”

I stood in Fudge’s office, my back up against the wall near his door, while he watched me from behind his desk.

“Then again,” Fudge continued, “are you even sure it happened at all? Maybe you were dreaming...”

“I wasn’t dreaming, sir.”

The Minister’s eyes darted over me quickly, then flew down to his desk, searching. “I know Potter is a friend of your brother’s, but...he isn’t the most trustworthy person in the world, you know. Let’s not forget that this boy has already been reprimanded for us of underage magic, and then there’s the crowd he hangs around with. Convicted murderers, werewolves...and Dumbledore.” Fudge finally lifted his gaze and stared me straight in the eyes.

I got the impression that Fudge wanted to include my father in the list he’d just sprouted off, but he didn’t.

“It would serve you well to not involve yourself with the wrong sort,” Fudge went on.

Again, I almost expected him to mention my family, to say they were prime examples of the wrong sort. Fudge spent a long time that evening trying to assuage my doubts, but I could honestly say I didn’t believe him. Not any longer. I didn’t let him know that, though.

When Fudge offered me the position of his assistant a few days later, I didn’t hesitate to accept it. It wasn’t for the reasons most people thought, but if You-Know-Who had indeed returned, being in a higher position within the Ministry would give me the best chance of hearing all of the reports where he was concerned.

And when my father started slinging insults at the Ministry, I took my chance. If Barty Crouch could be placed under the Imperius Curse for as long as he was without anyone noticing, then what would happen if You-Know-Who decided to do the same thing to me? The Dark Lord had already made it quite clear that he was watching me, it was only a matter of time before he acted.

The best way to protect my family, and to show my loyalty to the Ministry - and therefore guarantee I was always on top of the news about You-Know-Who - was to get away from the rest of the Weasleys. I pretended like my father’s cruel words about Fudge hurt me more than they actually did, and I used it to my advantage. I left the Burrow and never looked back.

I wrote Ron a letter persuading him to distance himself from Harry. With all the rumors swirling around about Voldemort, Harry Potter was always in the very center of them. No matter what Voldemort did, Harry Potter never failed to be involved somehow. The more my brother maintained friendship with The Boy Who Lived, the more that put Ron himself in danger. It’s not that I’d ever disliked Harry, but I cared for my family more.

On the other hand, I sometimes wondered why I even bothered to care. I’d always been mercilessly teased by my siblings, and I knew my parents thought I was nutters in the head to show loyalty to Fudge. But that’s an entirely different story altogether.

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing in my kitchen, staring down at the Daily Prophet, I wondered if anything was worth it. Was it worth it to pretend I was furious with my entire family just to make myself look good to the Ministry? You-Know-Who was back. Would my family make it through another war?

The first tendrils of doubt and guilt were growing in my stomach, echoing the rising of the steam from my teacup. I knew where my loyalties lay, and I was the only one. I was beginning to doubt whether my cover, my stance, was the right choice. The resolve that had seemed so strong up until that point slowly began to crumble, leaving me feeling confused, lost.

It was clear to me that I had a decision to make, and time was quickly running short. You-Know-Who was out there, waiting for an opportunity. How long would any of us be around?

Watching the rain cascading down the window again, this time from the kitchen, I dropped my teacup onto the counter, largely untouched. A splash of the amber liquid tipped over the side of the cup, laying in little pools on the countertop. That, along with the rain still running down the window, pushed images into my mind -- horrible images of death, blood, violence...

I pulled my cloak on over my shoulders, and it felt much heavier than I could ever recall. I felt smothered under its warmth and weight. Somewhere, in the very back of my mind, I realized that it might already be too late.

_The end_


End file.
